


But That's History

by jakesantiago



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Peraltiago, casecation alternative ending, post casecation, season six, this is sad btw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-16
Updated: 2019-04-16
Packaged: 2020-01-15 00:25:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18487504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jakesantiago/pseuds/jakesantiago
Summary: Jake and Amy almost always agreed on everything, but there's one fight they can't get over.Special thanks for @cheddar-the-dog for proofreading and @sergeantames on tumblr for editing! Love you babes <3<3





	But That's History

**Author's Note:**

> I recommend listening to "Level Up" by Sigrid before reading this!  
> My tumblr is amysantiagoisfone if you wanna follow me there 🥰  
> Special thanks to @cheddar-the-dog for proofreading and @seargeantames for editing! Go check their tumblrs out! Love you babes <3<3

The boxes were consuming their apartment- _her_ apartment, soon enough.

 

Amy leaned against the counter, both hands enveloping the mug she filled with coffee a few moments ago.

 

Her eyes kept moving all over the place, from a box labeled as ‘Shirts’ to another, labeled as ‘Books’.

 

The sofa was scrambled up with different pillows and blankets, as it was Jake’s turn to sleep there tonight. It was only fair for them to alternate between the sofa and the bed, even if Jake insisted on letting Amy sleep in the bedroom. Still, when it was Amy’s turn to sleep on the sofa, she’d always fold the blanket and puff the pillows over it, while Jake would just leave the couch like a hurricane.

 

Amy didn’t really notice Jake get out of the shower until he spoke.

 

“Morning,” he greeted without looking at Amy, who was now stiff after losing her train of thought by surprise.

 

She knew that it’s best not to look at him- at his tense jaw, that tiny, wet curl that defied gravity, or the solemn, sleepy look in his eyes as he stirred the cup before it had any sugar in it. He was moving the teaspoon slowly, and he didn’t take it out once he was allegedly finished with it, taking a sip that made him scowl and realise his mistake.

 

Still, Amy eyed him. If this would’ve happened three months ago, she’d have nudged him and teased him, and Jake would have made some sort of obnoxious noise, and a wonderful, joking fiasco would start between them.

 

“Morning,” Amy answered, taking another sip of her coffee which was harder to swallow now that Jake was around.

 

They talked about getting a coffee machine a while back, when they still agreed on stuff. They both drink it like crazy and it’d be so much easier and less time consuming, but it’s a good thing they didn’t buy it in the end. They avoided that argument now.

 

Amy looked at her watch, lifting herself off the counter. “I leave in ten minutes. I can give you a ride if you’re fast enough.” She offered, even though car rides with Jake were the most uncomfortable thing lately.

 

Amy was sure he won’t take her up on that offer, mostly because of the fact that he was still in a towel and she was already in her uniform.

 

But, as always, Jake was full of surprises- he nodded and thanked Amy, before rushing  towards the bedroom.

  
  
  


\--

The moment they got into the car, Jake started fiddling with his fingers. Soon enough, the engine lit up and Amy didn’t know what to say.

 

She missed talking to him, the way they talked when they were friends- before the wedding, before jail, and Florida, and Holt, even.

 

It felt as if a third person was missing in the car as they got around Flatbush, a buffer to their conversations; a common ground.

 

It took Jake approximately two minutes of silence before he turned on the radio, a quiet guitar making sure they didn’t have to say anything.

 

“In your house, I got my suitcase, ’cause I’m heading out…” A soft voice started, and Amy knew Jake was looking at her. Both of her hands tightened around the wheel, knuckles white as all she wanted to do was look at him and cry, or get out of the car and find a brown paper bag to hyperventilate into.

 

She knew the look on his face even if she didn’t see it. It was like the ache in his eyes when they drove home from another counseling appointment that led nowhere, or when Jake would say he can’t change that part of him, that he won’t be happy with kids of his own.

He knew how much it hurt Amy to hear that, how important kids were to her.

They loved each other so much, that being in the way of what the other wanted would kill them.

 

At a stoplight, Amy couldn’t resist it. She looked down at her legs, Jake’s legs, at the wedding ring on his fourth finger, as her own fingers intertwined with his. His hand immediately accommodated Amy’s, Jake’s thumb brushing over hers.

 

He wanted to say something, Amy could see it in his eyes, but the song beat him to it.

‘Nothing you say’s gonna push me away...’ and Jake squeezed Amy’s hand before he let go, clearing his throat.

 

With a deep breath, Amy turned to look at the road once more, signaling their turn as the singer mused along, laughing softly at the end of her song. From the corner of her eye, she could see Jake was staring out the window, his thumb rubbing over his wedding band.

  


\--

  


It wasn’t unusual for Amy not to see Jake all day, what with working on different floors and with different squads.

 

She’d still come up to talk to Jake, Rosa, or Holt occasionally, but today was filled with reports and deadlines- a secret blessing in disguise; Amy’s work made sure she won’t have a second to think of herself today, not one minute to look at her phone where a photo of Jake was, two french-fries acting as makeshift fangs and ketchup running down his chin.

 

On days like these, where she’d work as late as she did, coming home was a blessing- Jake would clean, and dinner would be ready on the table. He’d let her choose any movie she wants, massaging her shoulders and feet as she vented the day out of her system.

Jake would never let a bad day get worse, but when Amy came home, all spent, she didn’t want to see the apartment like this.

 

She didn’t want to see Jake and Charles, picking up boxes of memories filled with hoodies and sets of Die Hard DVDs and Harry Potter books.

 

“Boyle,” Jake said the moment Amy came in, and without a single remark, Charles left Amy’s apartment with a large box, closing the door behind him with his foot.

 

“I- there’s no truck outside,” Amy recalled in confusion, pointing back towards the door as her throat reacted the way it would if a dog was around.

 

“Terry let me borrow his van. Sharon said she’d give me a hundred bucks if I wreck it. She definitely still wants an SUV.” Jake explained, putting the box he was holding on the floor.

 

Without another word, Amy went up to Jake, feeling as if she crashed into him, holding tightly onto his shirt.

 

Jake’s hand ran through her hair and Amy didn’t know what to say. It felt like a punishment, living in a dream only for it to shatter in the worst way possible.

 

“This, this is the hardest thing I’ve gone through in my entire life.” Jake said, his eyes watering even if his voice sounded dry.

 

“The thing is, the only person I want to talk about all of this is still you.” Amy muttered, her hands cupping Jake’s face. “I just want to get some takeout and talk about all of this until we fall asleep on the couch.”

 

“And then you’d wake up at three in the morning and make us go to bed so our backs won’t hurt the next day, I know.” Jake smiled softly in reminiscence, until their foreheads touched, until their lips met and wanted to ignore everyone and everything.

 

Jake’s hands, placed on her back, traveled to Amy’s hips.

 

She knew that he won’t hold on for long, felt the way his jaw tensed under her fingers and she let go before he could, her hands sliding to Jake’s chest, falling down to her sides not long after.

 

“Uh, see you tomorrow?” Amy asked as Jake turned to take the box again, crossing her arms over her chest, lower lip stuck in a quivering pout.

 

With a deep sigh, Jake nodded. “You’ll never get rid of me completely, Santiago.”

 

She couldn’t move as he closed the door behind himself, turning her head up towards the ceiling, the backs of her hands pressing against her eyes. Amy lowered her head with a drawn out breath after a few moments.

 

Only then did she notice the smell coming from the kitchen, and turning the corner, she saw chinese takeout in white boxes, waiting for Amy and no one else.

  



End file.
